


Been Through

by indigomini



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Real World, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 04:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13628898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigomini/pseuds/indigomini
Summary: This too shall pass.





	Been Through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [at1stsoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/at1stsoo/gifts).



He’s feeling more like sixty-two than twenty-six. His flight was delayed, so here he is, getting in at 3 a.m. instead of midnight with a 5 a.m. practice. It might be possible to sneak in a decent nap if he showers quickly enough and skips out on breakfast. He'll get lectured again, no doubt, but weighing his options out, a lecture and an hour of sleep sounds better than calories he'll have to burn and no mental reset to navigate through the long day ahead.

Despite his weariness and the time crunch, Kyungsoo unlocks his suitcase and pulls out the soft bundle on the top corner. He unwraps the clothes from around it, tossing them back in to deal with later. It'll just take a second.

It's a short walk down the hall. It used to be shorter. The dorm is quiet now. Even Baekhyun knows to not stay up late to play games when their schedule is this packed. Kyungsoo turns the package over in his hands, brushing his fingertips over the shiny wrapping paper. Should he just set it outside, or would that risk one of the members snatching it up come morning?

After wasting precious seconds to deliberate, he carefully turns the door handle, holding his breath and praying nothing creaks. He's just going to put it right by the door. Somewhere safe from greedy, grubby, nosy hands. 

As tempted as he is to check in, if he has any hopes of sleep, he needs to hurry back. Just as cautiously, he shuts the door, turning on tippy toes, hoping there is enough hot water right now to soak some of the exhaustion out of his bones.

The door opens behind him. “Hyung?” says a soft voice, too clear to have been freshly stirred from sleep.

Sighing, he turns around slowly. “Why are you still awake?” he whispers harshly, regretting the stern tone afterward.

“I hoped—” Jongin steps into the hallway, wrapping his arms around himself in that little self-hug Kyungsoo had taught him so long ago, a lifetime ago, looking at him from underneath his bangs. “I wanted to make sure you got back safely.”

He hadn’t planned for this. Is way too tired to handle this. Jetlagged and grimey and hungry, not a good combination for dealing with Jongin right now. “...Happy birthday,” Kyungsoo offers quietly.

Jongin’s eyes are accusatory. Ready, no doubt, to point out that it is no longer his birthday. His lips part, and Kyungsoo steels himself for the verbal blade. “How was Japan?” comes out instead, surprising him. Going by the fleeting look of smugness, that’s exactly what Jongin was going for.

“The weather was really nice,” he scrapes a growing fingernail against the pad of his thumb. “It was beautiful.” And then, as his brain sluggishly reminds him, he points to Jongin’s door. “I brought you back a present.”

Jongin follows his gaze, giving his door the most disinterested, cursory of glances. “Why?”

He is  _ so _ not equipped to deal with this right now. “...For your birthday.”

“You intentionally took a vacation with your friends to be away for both your birthday and mine.” His voice is monotonous, emotionless, as Jongin takes a step forward. “I got a single word text from you the whole trip. What is the purpose there for getting me a present?”

And then the mask slips, anger and jealousy and hurt bubbling up immediately to the surface. Kyungsoo can only stand and watch helplessly as a tear slips down Jongin’s cheek. It’s wiped away quickly, and Jongin’s arms fold back across his chest, wiping the wetness into his shirt, darkening the white cotton. He sniffles, angling his head away to focus on some point behind Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

What is there to say. Anything that  _ can _ be said has already been repeated over and over, ad nauseum. Anything left unspoken, well, it’s not like they don’t both understand how it has to be to work, in order to function. Some things just can’t be voiced, lest it be given life.

Jongin wipes at another tear, dragging his whole palm across his bloodshot eyes. For an instant, annoyance floods Kyungsoo’s head. Jongin knows better than to do that. It’s bad for his skin. He’s been told on multiple occasions, scolded by multiple people. Kyungsoo wants to reach out and push his hand down, before it can wreak more damage to his sleepless face.

“Anyway, thank you,” Jongin’s voice is dull, sounding somehow even more tired than Kyungsoo feels. “I’ll open it tomorrow.” Mumbling a weak ‘welcome back,’ he shuffles back into his room, letting the door swing shut.

Kyungsoo can still make out the sniffles. He can hear the springs of Jongin’s couch creaking, picturing him collapsing onto it, curling into himself. He’s made Jongin cry. Again. He should’ve just gone to sleep and given him the damn present after they were done with schedules. He would’ve been better rested, Jongin would’ve been tear-free. Him, and his stupid impulses. Him, and his stupid ideas.

The guilt only grows with each step he takes toward his room, but he arrives regardless, looting around in the dark for his towel and a change of clothes before dragging his feet back out, to the communal bathroom.

It means having to pass by Jongin’s bedroom again. He should’ve brought his shower stuff with him when he went to drop off the present, but it’s 4 a.m., and thinking is difficult.

He will apologize later. Their schedules don’t end until 9 p.m., but he can cook something when they get back if he crams a couple of catnaps in throughout the day.

His feet bring him not to the bathroom but back to Jongin’s door. They turn to stone, unable to budge in the slightest.

Jongin nearly yanks the door off of its hinges opening it, but the murderous expression slips once he sees who had knocked.

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday.”

“You’re not.” 

The words may have been intended to be accusatory, but they come out as a broken whimper, and he knows, he  _ knows _ he had promised, and that they’re better off as uncomfortable coworkers, and that there is only one path, one outcome that is available, that is acceptable. That is allowed.

But he’s made Jongin cry again, and he just misses him  _ so fucking much. _

—

Shower time is EXO’s most blatant secret. It’s one of those “what happens in the shower, stays in the shower” kind of scenarios. Sometimes, it actually is pragmatic, sharing water after practice to get clean quicker so they can collapse into bed, and sometimes, it’s just nice to have someone else jerk you off. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s comforting. It’s safe. Except when you shower with Baekhyun, because that asshole has a thing for assholes, and it’s never mattered how much he gets hit, he never learns to keep his fingers to himself. But overall, nobody is going to leak that bit of information. Nobody’s going to go to the gossip rags or netizens with salacious insider scoops. It’s just them. Mutually assured destruction if anyone breathes a word.

As exponentially as they have climbed, their schedules have gotten more and more packed,  _ impossibly  _ packed, as the years went by. It went from direct orders of no relationships, no scandals, to literally no time to even consider dating. If you’re free enough to secure a first date, it’ll be months before you can find time for a second. Assuming that person is still around. Or is not some sasaeng in disguise. Or just good old fashioned crazy. Jongdae’s learned his lesson the hard way. The others got to audit that for free. Better to focus on work. On EXO. There’s shower time for some needs, and bedtime cuddles for others. It’s like an ambulance. It’s not enough, but it’ll work to keep you going. Triage for the lonely heart, or baring that, the lonely dick. Which will have to suffice, for now. Hopefully, for a long while.

“Let me try something,” Jongin had said once, during shower time, before dropping to his knees. It seemed as obvious then as it does in every flashback since what he was going to do, but it was still surreal enough that Kyungsoo doubted, all the way up until Jongin’s tongue touched the underside of his cockhead and gave it a quick flick, withdrawing back into his mouth nervously. He giggled, commenting on the sponginess, the smoothness, and then repeating the motion several more times before gaining enough courage to wrap his lips around the tip, sucking experimentally.

Kyungsoo remembers, after what has to be one of the most memorable orgasms in his life, watching Jongin sputter and spit, scrambling to get to his feet and rinse his mouth out, spitting a jet into Kyungsoo’s face in retribution and whining afterward. He remembers the floaty, blissful feeling in his chest overriding the soreness of his dick, where Jongin’s teeth kept catching in his inexperienced enthusiasm.

“What’d that feel like?” Jongin asked after. He had always been so obvious.

He was not sure he was ready for… advanced shower time. Jerking someone off is one thing. It’s just a different angle. Getting on one’s knees and putting a dick into your mouth, that’s… that’s a lot more intentional.

But Jongin did it. And now he’s expecting some reciprocity, and—

“Yah! What was that noise!”

“Did you guys fall over? Wake up!”

“Hurry up, I need to shower!” The door handle jiggles. Jongin had locked it. This was premeditated. “At least let me in!”

Jongin wipes his tongue against his palm and scowls again. “He’s gonna pick it,” he pouts.

Sure enough, they hear the distinctive click of the lock turning seconds later. Baekhyun lets out a victory cry before the curtain gets yanked open, letting in a gust of cold air, prompting a yell from Jongin.

“Bedroom,” Kyungsoo mumbled quietly, ducking out of the narrow tub just as Baekhyun jumps in. He had no idea why he said that. It was the perfect opportunity to opt out. Let Baekhyun take care of Jongin. Or make it up to him later. 

Even in their room, door locked once again, he’s pretty sure if he just went forward with his hand, Jongin wouldn’t make a deal out of it. Instead, he sits Jongin down on the edge of his bed and sinks to the floor. At eye level, it looks a lot more intimidating. Never mind that normally, he finds Jongin’s cock rather pretty: a dusky, deeper, rosey pink, curving slightly to the right, and always jutting straight out instead of pointing upward. It’s pointed at his eyes right now, and that’s just alarming.

He buys time, stroking it loosely in his hand, watching the muscles of Jongin’s thighs flex.

“The frog!” he hears, and halts his movements to look up in confusion at Jongin, who reaches out and plucks something from his nightstand.

A paper frog, one of possibly thousands that Jongin has made with idle hands.

Kyungsoo lifts an indignant eyebrow. “I’m sorry, am I boring you?”

Jongin’s lip curls, “I mean, a little bit.”

He yanks at a cluster of Jongin’s leg hairs, prompting a squeal that falls apart into giggles as Jongin swats at him.

“Put it back,” he orders.

“I don’t remember making this,” Jongin turns the little bit of origami around in his fingers, yipping as Kyungsoo yanks his pubes this time.

“ _ Back _ ,” he growls.

—

He has to guide Jongin backwards, to fall onto the couch under his bunk. It’s stiff and narrow and Jongin opts to sit instead of laying down lengthwise, so Kyungsoo ends up having to straddle him to hold the kiss. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, carding through Jongin’s hair.

“Keep your sorries,” Jongin’s hands roam all over his back, pushing his shirt up. “And your bullshit pity present.”

That stung. He left for  _ them. _ So they could breathe and recalibrate. To play their roles. It had gotten too real again, and devolved into fights and hurt feelings and awkward interactions. The present was his allowance to give into just the tiniest bit of temptation. To just bring Jongin back something out of the seas of things that reminded Kyungsoo of him. 

They needed to get back to a place where they can just eat together, hang out, watch movies, talk bullshit, and have… advanced shower time. None of this pseudorelationship followed by pseudobreakup followed by very-much-so real pain.

This isn't helping. This is denial brought to life. It's not for release that he strips Jongin out of his pajamas, himself out of his stale airplane-steeped clothes, and lines them up so he can stroke both of their cocks in one hand, other hand looping around Jongin’s neck, crashing their lips together again.

This was his fault. The kissing. It was him who threw open these gates, watching Jongin fixate on his lips while Kyungsoo jerked him off in a shower time so long ago. Feeling hot cum land on his stomach as Jongin whimpered into his mouth and sucked on his tongue. Experimental, he had called it after, soaping the stubborn jizz off of his skin after. It had felt gross, but he didn’t mind nearly as much as he should have. And it certainly didn’t stop him from doing it again.

“How am I supposed to take this?” Jongin’s hand joins his, tightening their grip, slowing down the friction.

Kyungsoo manages to push him down and shuffle backwards, wetting his lips and taking Jongin’s cock all the way down to the base. He’s a pro now, even if it’s been months since the last time. “Blowjob for the birthday boy.” His lips drag across the head, slurring his words. It has to be enough.

Jongin starts to say something, to question, but his words fade quickly as Kyungsoo relaxes his throat, takes him in deeper. Absently, as he swirls his tongue over the tip, keeping his eyes wide open and focused on Jongin’s mesmerized face, he wonders if Jongin had let any of the other members do this too. Out of need or sheer spite. It had been months, after all.

More than likely, not. Try as he might to not notice, he knows that most of the time, Jongin showers alone. And now that they all have separate rooms, he and Chanyeol rarely wander off together. No more often than Kyungsoo uses the other member. Just an affectionate handie. Nothing more than meaningless release to get by. 

Jongin’s mewls have morphed into much louder moans. They’re not played up. Jongin lets go entirely whenever they do this. Gauging his sounds, he’s been celibate for a while. He grasps uselessly at Kyungsoo’s hair before settling on pushing the back of his head down in panic, letting out a single, drawn out moan as he fills Kyungsoo’s mouth, spasming wildly.

Jongin’s hand drags against the grain of his short hair, producing a scratching sound that syncs nicely with his breathing. He is still watching Kyungsoo’s face steadily, gulping along as Kyungsoo lets his softening cock slip out of his mouth and swallows. It had been mostly for show. Most of his release landed down Kyungsoo’s throat, but the act still has its intended effect.

“I need to shower,” Kyungsoo warns, scooting back when Jongin flips them over and tries to lick at his aching cock. “I’m gross.”

“So let’s shower.”

—

“Here you go,” Kyungsoo says, plopping two matching bubble teas onto their small table.

“I thought you wanted taro,” Jongin says, grabbing one of the straws and  unwrapping it.

“Yours sounded really good.”

“I would’ve shared.”

Their table is silent for the next ten minutes. They people-watch while they enjoy their drinks. It’s on both of their minds. All these students passing by them, noticing nothing and no one significant. Will their opinions change soon? Won’t it be cool, having to wear glasses and disguises in order to go out like this in the future, just to have bubble tea?

“You did well today,” Jongin pushes forth the napkin he had been messing with. He’s folded it into a paper frog.

“What kind of gift is this?” Kyungsoo smirks. “It won’t bounce! And it has a stain on it.”

“It does not!” Jongin’s attempt at looking offended barely passes. “I checked. It was the only clean napkin we had.”

“This is why everyone always folds a crane,” Kyungsoo pushes at the frog’s rear pointedly, taking care to not smush it and lifting a brow at Jongin when the soft paper indeed does not bounce.

“Cranes are expected. Frogs are a cool surprise.” That’s Jongin. Folding frogs when everyone else is folding cranes. 

“They’re not a surprise. You  _ always _ fold frogs.”

“I folded you  _ one frog _ when we first ate together. That’s not  _ always _ .”

“I paid for bubble tea, and all I got was a limp frog.”

Jongin chortles, like Kyungsoo’s joke was way funnier than it actually sounded. He takes the receipt this time, folding the thin paper into halves and looking up, arching a brow. “Will you accept a paper bear?”

“You don’t know how to fold a bear,” Kyungsoo challenges. He remembers attempting that once. It has several dozen folds. No way Jongin has that memorized.

The boy snickers as he pleats the paper. “Okay, I don’t. But I made you a plane. This one goes really far. Like we will!” He holds up a fist. “Fighting!”

Kyungsoo swats at his head playfully. He’s so cheesy. “I can’t throw a plane in here! What is with you and gifts I can’t use?”

The nerve. Jongin pretends to look affronted, “Oh, I’ll take it back then.” He only half-assedly reaches for the small plane and smirks again when Kyungsoo smacks his hand away, scooping the receipt to his side protectively.

“Yah, don’t you dare. It’s mine now.”

—

“They hate me.”

Kyungsoo throws the blanket over both of them and snuggles closer, rubbing up and down Jongin’s back. “They don’t hate you.”

“They hate me.”

“It’s not everyone,” he knows the words won’t offer much comfort, but he doesn’t know what else to say. “And it’s just a kneejerk reaction. It’ll be okay.”

Jongin burrows into his neck, moping in silence.

“I told you not to look online.”

A grunt. And then Jongin’s good foot tangles with his, and moments later, Jongin’s toes are pinching at his socks, pushing them off of his own feet. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, but allows it, even helping it along. His toes wrestle with Jongin’s after, pinching them before allowing the other to just rest them together, careful to avoid Jongin’s wrapped foot.

None of this was unexpected, truthfully. But the reality of it was something they couldn’t have really prepared for, emotionally. Kyungsoo sighs, “That was so shitty of them.”

Jongin slumps against him, rubbing his foot over Kyungsoo’s. “I knew the deal. We got to see it all secondhand with Baek. At least they gave  _ me _ warning.”

“She’ll be okay,” Kyungsoo hopes that speaking it aloud can will it into existence. “I’ll call her later. Are you hungry?”

“I want a time machine,” Jongin says sulkily.

Kyungsoo purses his lips in thought. There are only so many options for comfort. “...Or… a shower?”

Jongin throws an arm over his stomach and yanks him closer. “I want to sleep and wake up and live in a world where some girl didn’t just stab my eyes out in all of her posters and burn all of our albums and call me a cheater. And then take pictures of it for the internet to applaud.”

Well, he can’t give him that. There’s bound to be worse reactions coming in the next few days. Months, to be realistic. At least Jongin doesn’t have social media. “You need to stop looking. It’ll just drive you crazy.”

Hypocritical advice. He’s looked. He doesn’t know what’s worse, the ‘Stay strong, KaDi!’ team or the ‘KaDi is over!’ crew. They don’t need this drama. Lord knows what the international fans are saying, but parading their couple name around and tangling it with the news releases is only exacerbating the situation. It’ll only put them on higher magnification under the public microscope, and he’s about to have to do so much promotion for the movie while Jongin deals with the brunt of it. It’s making him nervous.

“I’m gonna make some ramyeon,” he offers, scooting away only to be pulled back into a tight embrace. “You need to eat.”

“Can you imagine what would happen if people knew about what we do in the dorm?” Jongin asks, propping his chin up on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. It digs a little, but it’s not painful yet, so he allows it.

“It’s… not that unusual, from what I’ve heard with other groups,” Kyungsoo offers softly.

“Obviously,” Jongin sighs. “But I mean, if the news that a twenty something year old is dating sends people into emotional collapse, what would happen if they learned that idols are just casually jerking each other off to get through the day? I think they’d actually kill us.”

It’s true, but not the right time to be mulling over these thoughts. “You’re overthinking it.”

“I think about it a lot,” Jongin lays his head back down, nuzzling up into Kyungsoo’s neck. “What would happen afterward. Not if we got caught, but like… after EXO. Do we just pretend none of that happened? How do we go be normal… people again? Does any of it mean anything?”

He’s trying to come up with an answer when he notices the silence. Jongin’s holding his breath. He finally settles on: “None of us can predict what will happen after EXO.”

“Do you think we won’t… be friends after this is all over?”

He knows what Jongin is asking. What he’s really asking. Kyungsoo brushes through his hair. “We’ll always be friends.”

“What kind of friends will we be after EXO?” Jongin pauses, shifts his body to fit alongside Kyungsoo’s better. “What will change from right now?”

He’s just been letting things build, riding the wave of bliss for the past couple of months. The bedsharing, the intimate touches, the… exclusivity of shower time. The private meals that could easily be misconstrued as dates if you squint at them.

“We’ll be less busy, I would hope,” Kyungsoo smiles weakly. “Get more sleep. Eat sitting down, at an actual table. Dress ourselves like able adults.”

Jongin copies the smile reluctantly. “That sounds nice.”

He knows Jongin is hurting. Nevermind the injury, which has already devastated him, but to see fans reacting with such vitriol, to abandon them so readily, whether it be in truth or just a heated outburst in the moment. It strikes fear into all of them, that they can be so easily discarded by those whose adoration they’ve worked so hard to earn, when the alleged sin is that they sought companionship in someone. Anyone. As if they don’t have enough to deal with on a day-to-day basis as idols. The long hours, the nearly comical lack of privacy, the verbal attacks, the passive aggressive, veiled criticisms, the dehumanization. It’s a cruel, savage reminder that at the end of the day, they really don’t matter, not as people. Not to their company, not to the fans, not to their industry, irrespective of how many records they’ll set, no matter how solidified their position will be in the annals of pop history. No one truly cares about the persons behind the stage names and awards. Not in actuality.

Except that’s not true. Kyungsoo cares about all of the members, most of all Jongin. Most definitely Jongin. And he knows they all care in turn, even when they can’t express it, for their own sakes. To keep on moving, they can’t be honest about how hard things are, can’t look too closely at how unfair their jobs can be. It’s self-preservation, times nine. If you feel yourself breaking down, you need to dig deep and find your animal instincts, crawl into a dark corner, and break down in private, lest you set off a chain reaction. Lick your wounds, get it together, and get back to work. It’s not an elephant in the room, but a dragon, coiled and sleeping, puffing fiery smoke in warning.

Do not awaken the dragon.

Jongin’s eyes are sunken. He knows this look, recognizes it all too well from the past. Soon, Jongin’ll be overworking to compensate for his injury, skipping meals in punishment, skipping sleep to fit in more practice, and then crashing for days at a time when it all builds to a point where he can no longer sustain it.

He cradles Jongin’s face in both of his hands and kisses him. It’s a soft kiss, sweet, easy, just brushing their lips against each other in near silence, enjoying the feel of soft skin, of Jongin’s warm breath. Jongin matters to  _ him _ .

“What about this?” Jongin murmurs against his mouth. “Will we still have this, after EXO?”

He knows what Jongin is asking. What he’s really asking. Kyungsoo breaks the kiss to rest their foreheads together, closing his eyes, holding the dam back. “I want to.”

Jongin inhales, his lips parting. He’s going to ask. There’s no avoiding it.

Kyungsoo beats him to it. “With you. Just with you.”

—

“You didn’t sleep, did you?”

Kyungsoo turns and raises an eyebrow. “Neither did you?”

The somber expression doesn’t change. Jongin leans his head against the shower wall and scrubs weakly down Kyungsoo’s waist. The air is humid enough without all the questions he can feel radiating off of Jongin.

He’s lost count of how many lines they’ve drawn and crossed. They’re supposed to be in cool down. To make sure the dragon lies dormant. To continue going unseen. The bitter tang on his tongue mocks him. His head is heavy from lack of sleep and starting to ache. He does not want to deal with Jongin’s questions, Jongin’s judgment.

They need to step back. To reequilibrate. Find that sweet spot where they can go without one another without that hollow feeling in their chests. Where they can hang out without feeling the need to find privacy, to where it is just the two of them, even without the pretense of sex. It’s a thin tightrope with no safety net.

He had gone to Japan with his actor friends for  _ them _ .

“You love me,” Jongin states.

His heart must have stopped, upon hearing those words. The world feels like it came to a halt as well, and he nearly trips from the jolt. It only lasted for a second. And then the blood rushes back to his ears, and his heart jumpstarts.

He sighs, “I can't right now.”

“Doesn't seem to matter, does it? Will you at least say it?”

Kyungsoo furrows his brows and opens his mouth.

“Just once,” Jongin chokes out.

He bristles, “I say it all the time.”

“For everyone else to hear. Not for me.”

“You're the same way! You think these public declarations—”

“I say it because I can't help it,” Jongin wraps his arms around himself again, despite the near scalding water cascading down on them. “Apparently, you can. You always can. It's easier for you to just shut off.”

“That's not true—”

“It's fine. I know how this works. I know what matters most. I'm agreeing with you.” Jongin takes a small step back, looking down at their feet, fighting a frown. “I just wanted to hear it.”

“You don't understand,” Kyungsoo sounds way more irritated than he should, but he's drained and wrung dry. “You think you do, but you don't. Every line we cross, we can never uncross. We've tried—”

“I haven't.”

He gapes at Jongin in disbelief. After all he's been through to keep them safe. To be so  _ flippant _ —

“I’ve never bothered. Yes, this is important. Of course, this is important. But us?” He gestures between the two of them, back and forth. “If there was ever going to be anything between us, then there would be everything between us. There's a world of difference between caring and being in love. You think I don't know you? Or myself? You think I didn't see how differently you've treated me, versus the other members? You think calling it a crush, or shower time, or whatever other nice-sounding, distancing, bullshit denial will stop this? It's your  _ heart _ , hyung, it doesn't care about what's logical. It doesn't listen to snooze buttons. It's not a game you can just reset. There's only ever been one way out if we both wanted to stay in it.”

“The stakes...”

Jongin shrugs, propping himself against the wall again. “I know what has to happen. I don't want this ride to end anytime soon either.” He purses his lips as he scans Kyungsoo's face, seeking answers. “I said it's fine. I meant it. But controlling ourselves is one thing. Keeping secrets, playing our roles, is one thing. Sticking our heads in the sand, pretending that this can just go away,  _ ignoring me _ ? Tell me what that has ever accomplished.”

Kyungsoo eventually closes his mouth, staying silent. He has nothing.

“It  _ hurts _ when you look through me.”

The water is getting cold, he slowly registers. There are probably other members getting up already. His chest aches so much, it makes his head feel positively exuberant in comparison. Kyungsoo takes a deep breath, filling his lungs, feeling his heart beat beneath the surface.

“I love you,” he says in the next exhale, a rush of air following it. It feels crushing. And freeing. He can never walk this back.

“I love you,” Jongin echoes. He smiles. It's a sad smile, but sincere regardless. He rubs Kyungsoo's bicep, pulling him closer to press a soft kiss onto Kyungsoo's forehead. “Let's get out. We're gonna have to leave soon. We can probably nap on the way.”

He wants to say so much more. A spell has been lifted. The magic words uttered. It felt like floodgates bursting. “Today is gonna suck.”

Jongin hands him a towel before grabbing one for himself. It’s one of the stiff spare towels, leftover from Mama days. Scratchy and too small, but it covers everything. He nods, “Could be worse.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What did you get me?” Jongin asks after they've trekked back to his room, miraculously undisturbed. He scoops his present off the floor and sets it on his dresser, eyeing it as he pulls on clothes.

They still have a few minutes left, to be Kyungsoo and Jongin, before they have to pull their D.O. and Kai skins back on. He grins, swapping the ratty old towel in favor of one of Jongin's warm, plush ones. He alone gets to use them, aside from Jongin. “Is my heart not enough?”

Jongin picks up the box, giving it a curious shake. “I already unwrapped  _ that _ . I turned a quarter of a century old. It should be a special gift, right?”

“My heart and a blowjob aren't enough?”

“Never. I want everything.”

Jongdae is hollering for them, and someone slaps Jongin's door loudly, announcing departure time. Jongin smiles at him and sets the box down, nodding his head toward Kyungsoo's room. Kyungsoo still needs to get dressed. Jongin can be patient and open it tonight, when they finally drag their tanked out selves back to the dorm, when they can take their time and reveal it in private.

He can wait. As can Kyungsoo.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is Lizzie's fault. She made me finish W&W, and hurt me, so instead of writing sexy wolves sniffing each other, I did this. I mean, I'm working on wolves too, but this needed to get out. No, I'm not claiming this is real. No, I'm not claiming anything. It's nonau, but it's still...yeah, anyway. I said I'd never write nonau. I hope after you've read this, you understand why. Never again, gdi.
> 
> Anyway, I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/filet_jignon) and [Curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/filet_jignon) if you wanna talk. Leave comments if you're comfortable, tell me if/when you cried, etc.


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